


reminder

by agni_kai



Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Accidental Exhibitionism, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Dom Sokka (Avatar), Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Over the Knee, Spanking, Sub Zuko (Avatar), Subspace, being the firelord means getting to play sex games in meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agni_kai/pseuds/agni_kai
Summary: Day 13:Body worship|Spanking|FrottageSokka thinks he's found the perfect way to make sure Zuko stays focused in meetings.As usual, Zuko remains standing until everyone has arrived and greetings have been exchanged. As usual, he waves for the tea to be poured by the attendant as everyone settles down for the meeting. Not usual at all is the way his breath catches as he folds into seiza, or the way he hesitates for a moment before settling his weight properly, or the way his hands under the table grip his robes white-knuckled.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950004
Comments: 29
Kudos: 301
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	reminder

**Author's Note:**

> There's a brief mention in the opening conversation of (in the past) deliberately aggravating existing injuries in a way that could be construed as self-harm. Feel free to skip the lines between "When I had to sit and listen as a kid" and "We'll think of something".

"Hey, where are my notes?" Sokka squints down at his desk, rummaging through papers, until Zuko flaps a scroll at him in his periphery. "Wait, why have _you_ got them?"  
  
"They're way more detailed than mine." Zuko goes to chew his thumbnail then makes a face and tucks his hand back into his sleeve. "And the notes the scribes take are pretty detailed, but they don't have the useful stuff in them. Who looked annoyed at different proposals, who was taking notes at what point, all that stuff."  
  
"If that's what you need to know, why don't you write it down?" Sokka pushes up onto his knees to reach across the table, trying to grab his scroll back, and Zuko tugs it out of reach and keeps reading. "Baby, c'mon."  
  
"Let me just finish this section." Zuko reads for a moment longer then sighs and pushes the scroll back to him. "I do try to keep more detailed notes, but it's... Let’s just say it's easier to focus in some meetings than in others."  
  
Yeah, Sokka gets _that_. Some of Zuko's advisors and the chosen ambassadors from other nations couldn't be drier and more sleep-inducing if they tried. With Zuko's intermittent insomnia still rearing its ugly head every so often, the fact that he's yet to fall asleep in a meeting is _astounding_.  
  
"Keeping notes helps keep me focused," he says with a shrug. "Need to do more than one thing at once or I'll start daydreaming. I don't want to get called out for staring at you in meetings _again_."  
  
"Mm. I guess." Zuko makes a face and stares down at his own notes. Yeah, they are rather pitiful. "It's fine in meetings that are actually interesting, or ones that need me to be involved, but when all I'm doing is sitting silently and looking vaguely ominous as a reminder to behave, making notes is just distracting."  
  
"But you look so _hot_ when you're brooding, baby." It's a problem sometimes, really. His husband just shouldn't be allowed to look that good. "What have you tried, to keep you focused?"  
  
Zuko sighs, shifting to pillow his head on the desk on folded arms. "Something physical to ground me. Usually something uncomfortable. That's what always worked as a kid."  
  
Well, probably that and fear. Sokka can't imagine that fidgeting and daydreaming during lessons would have gone down well in Ozai's household.  
  
"I knelt straight onto the floor in my usual classroom," Zuko clarifies after a moment. "And _seiza_ hurts after a while when you're not used to it. I couldn't get distracted very easily."  
  
Sokka makes a vague noise of sympathy. He generally refuses to sit in _seiza_ unless it's a very formal banquet - it's Fire etiquette, not Water - but it's as much for the sake of his knees and ankles as it is for the principal of the thing. Zuko and the Fire Nation ministers can keep it up for _hours_ after a lifetime of training, and it's baffling.  
  
"What do you try now?"  
  
"I try to find _something_ , but it's hard without looking like I'm distracted." He holds his arm out across the table and Sokka instinctively takes his hand and twines their fingers together. "Oh, no, I meant-" Zuko shifts until his sleeve falls over his hand, not lifting his head from the table. "The embroidery."  
  
Sokka rubs it between his fingers, feeling the heavy texture of the gold threads and subtle beading. "Huh. Yeah, that works, but I can see how it would look like you weren't paying attention."  
  
"So I do it under the table. But it takes both hands, so then I can't take notes." He turns his head to stare beseechingly up at Sokka. "Let me use your notes for the shit meetings. Please."  
  
"You can use them, but I'm _always_ going to miss stuff that you find important." Sokka brushes his fingertips over Zuko's hair, trying not to mess it up too much. "What else have you tried?"  
  
"When I had to sit and listen as a kid I'd pinch myself," Zuko says with a little shrug, avoiding Sokka's eyes. "Or when I- If I had a bruise. Or a burn. I would press on it or rub it or something."  
  
"Zuko. _Baby_."  
  
Sokka has his hand again instantly, squeezing almost too tightly to stand it, trying to force back the prickling behind his eyes. He knows about the fuckery that was Zuko's childhood, of _course_ he does, but then he just drops something like _that_ into conversation - although at least he acknowledges that there's something off about it, now. It's an improvement from when he thought a story about Azula burning him was a _funny anecdote_.  
  
"I know. I _know_. I didn't- I never actually hurt myself. I didn't, I just-"  
  
"'s okay, baby." Sokka brushes a thumb across his knuckles and smiles at him - and it comes more easily than he'd been expecting. "I used to do the same thing with my leg when I was stressing out after the war-" Stressing out is a mild way of putting it, but whatever. Zuko was there. He knows how Sokka got sometimes. "-as a coping mechanism or whatever. But it's a shit coping mechanism, so we don't do it anymore. Right?"  
  
"Right." Zuko makes a face and drapes himself across the table again, enough that Sokka can lean forward and kiss the top of his head. "Still. It means that I don't know what to do to keep myself focused, now."  
  
"We'll think of something," Sokka tells him, ideas already churning in the back of his mind. "Something _reasonable_. Let me think about it."  
  
He could be sensible about this. Or he could...not be sensible about this.  
  
To be honest, he knows which one Zuko needs more.  
  
They have another one of the terrible meetings scheduled right after lunch the following week. Sokka talks him into eating in their rooms without any attendants, ushering the unfortunate guards of the day outside to wait in the corridor with a wink as they glare at him.  
  
Yes, daytime sex, that's _definitely_ the plan.  
  
"Baby?"  
  
"Mhm?" Zuko glances up from his scroll, snuggling closer into Sokka's side under the arm slung around his shoulders.  
  
"You remember what we were talking about last week?"  
  
Zuko sits up a little more. "You've thought of something? I slept so badly last night, today is going to be a _mess_."  
  
"I've maybe thought of something. Feel free to say no." Sokka lets his arm slip from Zuko's shoulders to his waist, then low enough to grab his hip with the silent promise of more. "Something uncomfortable, you said? Maybe even a little bit painful?"  
  
Zuko squirms against his side a little, _already_ worked up, spirits, he's so _easy_.  
  
"Yeah?" he says, voice catching.  
  
Sokka leans closer, _feeling_ the way Zuko is flushing hot. "Do you think you'd be able to concentrate better with a little reminder?"  
  
Zuko hums, glancing up at Sokka, eyes already dark with lust. "Mm. Maybe."  
  
Sokka extracts himself from Zuko, grinning at the way he pouts. "Can you kneel instead for me, sweetheart? Full _seiza_ , like you're in a meeting?"  
  
Zuko does, eyes flicking from Sokka's face to the front of his tunic, clearly expecting an instruction that's not going to be coming. He doesn't think the way Zuko gets all sloppy and cuddly after a good blowjob is going to help his concentration. Instead Sokka shifts to run a hand along his hip, down across his thigh, feeling where he's resting on his heels.  
  
"Okay. Yeah, that works."  
  
"What works?"  
  
Sokka kisses away the tentative little crease between his brows. "My idea, baby. Do you want to go across my lap or over the edge of the bed?"  
  
"Oh," Zuko says, biting his lip. " _Oh_."  
  
"Does that sound good?" It'll be completely fair if Zuko says no. After all, playing sex games right before a meeting is kind of a dangerous choice. But...  
  
"Over your knee," Zuko says quietly, rocking forward on his knees to kiss him lightly. "Please."  
  
Sokka pushes himself to his feet, reaching down to pull Zuko up after him. "Think it might help?"  
  
"Even if it doesn't, it'll be fun."  
  
Tui and La, Sokka got _so lucky_ with this man.  
  
He settles on the edge of the bed, patting his lap until Zuko awkwardly stretches across. They haven't done this before, spanking cold without any foreplay, and it feels kind of weird.  
  
Sokka tugs up his robes, wedging one side between Zuko's hip and his own stomach. "Hold these out of my way, baby."  
  
There's actually something very hot about them both being otherwise fully dressed, which is something Sokka hadn't expected, and Zuko wearing loose robes opens up a lot of avenues they haven't explored yet. Still, that's a thought for future Sokka. Right now-  
  
"I'll spank you properly a little bit," he tells Zuko. "But I'm focusing here." He taps the back of his thigh, right where his heel will be pressing in as he kneels. "Does that sound good?"  
  
He's sat far enough back on the bed that Zuko can have both forearms braced on the sheets, one hand dragging the hem of his robes up out of the way, and he drops his head briefly between his arms before looking back up and over his shoulder - pretty pink flush high on his cheeks, eyes bright, tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.  
  
"Good. Really good."  
  
Sokka can't be bothered to unwrap and rewrap his loincloth, but his thighs are bare anyway - fuck, he loves Zuko's thighs, years of katas and training have done wonders - so he runs his hand over the smooth skin, squeezing enough that Zuko shivers. When Sokka glances up to meet his eyes where he's still looking back over his shoulder, he bites his lip and presses his cheek against the sheets.  
  
"I would tell you to get comfortable," Sokka tells him. "But that's not really going to be a problem in a couple of minutes. I need you to keep looking back at me so I can keep an eye on you, though. Can't let you go anywhere when we've got places to be."  
  
Zuko makes a little noise of complaint at that. Yeah, he does tend to go all floaty and spacey after a good spanking, and the cuddling and aftercare is always nice, but they can't afford that right now.  
  
Sokka scratches his nails lightly over the curve of Zuko's ass, watching his eyes flutter closed for a moment, lips parted on a barely-audible exhale, then spreads his palm out flat.  
  
"Five each side to get you warmed up," he warns. "Then I'm going to focus on bruising you up nice and good." He's not sure whether it'll actually bruise, but it'll do the job of being tender enough for one meeting. "Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Zuko breathes, curling his fingers into the sheets and meeting Sokka's eyes again. "I'm ready."  
  
"Count these ten."  
  
Zuko does, breath hitching with each blow, voice shaking a little by the end, and Sokka squeezes his ass approvingly and murmurs, "Good boy, Zuko." He can't see the redness and handprints, hidden under the loincloth, but the reaction is enough.  
  
He eyes the spot he'd pinpointed as the right one for today, judging the best angle for his hand and arm, Zuko's breath catching each time he taps lightly like he's gearing up for the first blow.  
  
"Sokka," he whines, arching his back to press up into Sokka's hand, looking fucking _gorgeous_.  
  
"I know, baby," Sokka murmurs, shifting his weight until he thinks he's got it. "You're gonna get what you want. You don't need to count, but I want to hear you."  
  
He checks the candle that he'd lit when they'd come in for lunch - there's a reasonable amount of time left. He's not going to use it all - he'll need some time to check on Zuko once he's done - but he has long enough to really make it _count_.  
  
The first slap comes down on the back of Zuko's left thigh, making him hiss out a sharp breath, and Sokka rubs it and admires the way his handprint stands out in stark crimson against Zuko's pale skin. Spirits, he's _stunning_. The second slap is in almost the same spot, harder, and Zuko's fingers curl into the bedsheets. Sokka pre-emptively shifts to hook one ankle around both of Zuko's, keeping his legs pinned in place.  
  
"You'd better keep your hands where they are," he warns, rubbing circles on Zuko's as-yet-untouched thigh. "I don't have time to be tying you down for this."  
  
Zuko hums, stretching languidly across his lap and arching in the way that he _knows_ gets Sokka wound up, and pouts up at him. "Later?"  
  
"You'd better believe it, baby." Sokka squeezes his leg. "Gonna get me so worked up, I'll come back here and fuck you any way you want it."  
  
Zuko whines and buries his face in the sheets, looking back up at Sokka's warning pinch. "Why you thought this would keep me _more_ focused-"  
  
He's broken off by his own sharp little whimper as Sokka's hand comes down in the same spot again, and then another immediately afterwards. He's got a rhythm now, and Zuko is already off-guard and unable to muffle his desperate little noises. He sounds too good to be real, Sokka _swears_ -  
  
"Please," Zuko gasps, legs straining to kick up where Sokka's got them pinned, his grip on the bedsheets white-knuckled. "Please, _please_ -"  
  
"What is it, sweetheart?" Sokka keeps his hand kneading at the muscle, keeping the blood flow going to bring up that delicious redness.  
  
"The other side," Zuko whines, arching up against his hand. "Please, Sokka, you've only done one-"  
  
"What if that was my plan, hmm?" Sokka admires his handiwork - one of Zuko's thighs as pale and smooth as always, the other scarlet, tinged here and there with purple along the contours of Sokka's hand from the harder blows. "Isn't that going to feel good? Knowing that you have to kneel perfectly upright even though it feels like _this_ -" He digs his fingertips into the tender muscle to hear Zuko moan. "-only on one side?"  
  
" _No_ ," Zuko complains, squirming futilely across his lap. "Not good, you _bastard_ -"  
  
It _would_ be fun to watch, though.  
  
"Ask me nicely," Sokka tells him, tapping a promising hand against the untouched skin. "Maybe you can persuade me to think about it."  
  
He doesn't even know himself whether he's going to give in Zuko's pleading - he wants to be symmetrical, wants to watch the welts from his hand spread across unblemished skin, wants to make Zuko whine his name in that desperate voice. But at the same time...  
  
"Please, Sokka," he begs, twisting around to stare up at him wide-eyed, flushed and panting. "Please spank me, I'll do whatever you want, I'll be good for you, _please_ -"  
  
At the bedside, the candle sputters and pops. Zuko cuts himself off sharply, staring at it.  
  
"Is that..?"  
  
"That means we've run out of time, baby." Sokka is selfishly grateful for how quickly their time has gone - now he doesn't have to make the torturously difficult decision over how best to be teasingly mean to Zuko. Spirits, he's going to have to fuck him _senseless_ after this to make up for it.  
  
" _No_ ," Zuko says, not taking his eyes off the candle like his firebending can somehow will it to unmelt. "No, _no_ , you _can't_ -"  
  
"I'm sorry, Zuko, baby," Sokka murmurs, tugging him upright and folding him into his arms. They might not have time for spanking, but they certainly have time for aftercare. "I didn't realise we were cutting it this fine, but we don't have time. We've gotta head back out there soon."  
  
Zuko hisses and wriggles when Sokka tries to get him to sit in his lap, and pushes him down flat to curl on top of him instead. Yeah, it's probably pretty tender right now. Still, he's never going to complain about Zuko's weight heavy above him, face tucked into the crook of his neck.  
  
"Sokka," he whines against his skin, and Sokka hums and smooths a hand over his hair, trying not to mess it up too badly.  
  
"I know, sweetheart," he soothes, scratching his nails lightly over Zuko's scalp. Another sensation, just this side of painful, to pull him back into his body instead of fixating on the ache on his ass and thighs. "But it's not going to be a long meeting, is it? Maybe an hour? And then that's it for the rest of the day, and we can come back here and I'll do whatever you want, baby, anything at all - yeah?"  
  
"You're mean," Zuko mumbles into his shoulder, but pushes himself up onto his elbows after a second to meet Sokka's eyes.  
  
"Yeah, baby, I know I am." Sokka plants one last kiss on the tip of his nose and manhandles him upright again, pushing him off the bed to stand. "C'mon, let's get you looking presentable again."  
  
There are stubborn creases in the hem of his robe from Zuko gripping it in clenched fists, and his hair has been pulled askew from being pressed against the bed, but he looks surprisingly like he _hasn't_ just been spanked over his husband's knee for the last half-hour. Thank the spirits for that, because Sokka is fairly sure that a lot of what he does to Zuko in the privacy of their rooms is technically illegal, or at the very least would be frowned on by his guards.  
  
Zuko doesn't limp as they head down the corridor to the council chambers, guards falling in behind them, and Sokka resists the urge to grab his ass to get a reaction. There'll be one soon enough.  
  
Zuko generally doesn't use the throne on the dais - the one that seemingly every council chamber has - unless he's trying to make an impression. Instead, he sits at the head of a low table, Sokka on his left in his blind spot so Zuko knows no-one else is there, the councillors and advisors spread out along the table.  
  
As usual, Zuko remains standing until everyone has arrived and greetings have been exchanged. As usual, he waves for the tea to be poured by the attendant as everyone settles down for the meeting.  
  
Not usual at all is the way his breath catches as he folds into _seiza_ , or the way he hesitates for a moment before settling his weight properly, or the way his hands under the table grip his robes white-knuckled.  
  
Sokka drops to sit cross-legged, sneaks a hand under the table to squeeze Zuko's knee encouragingly, and settles in for the ride.  
  
***  
  
The pain isn't even the worst bit, Zuko thinks, nodding his thanks to the attendant as his tea is poured. The pain is fine. The pain is _good_. He enjoys the ache when he has to sit the morning after a very good night, he enjoys cinching his sash tight to dig into the bruises left by Sokka's hands, he enjoys the soreness of his throat after he's snuck away at lunch to crowd Sokka into a corner and drop to his knees.  
  
The pain _hurts_ , of course it does, and he knows he's wincing - he can already see the amusement on Sokka's face when he turns his head enough to get him out of his blind spot - but it's good.  
  
Well.  
  
Would be good.  
  
If it was just fucking _even_.  
  
But no, Sokka just had to go and fucking _tease_ him and take too long doing it, and now he's stuck fighting the urge to list to one side to take the weight off his aching leg. It wouldn't be an issue if they _both_ hurt, but-  
  
Sokka brushes a reassuring thumb over his knee, tracing little circles, and Zuko takes a deep breath and announces the opening of the meeting, gesturing for a scribe to read the list of questions and decisions from the previous week. Geographical fishing rights and quotas. Riveting content. It's mostly just regional councillors and representatives from fishing towns hashing out what their numbers should be, coming off the back of a hundred years of quotas being decided by the army. Zuko never needs to do much besides noticing when someone is being talked over or bringing matters back on topic if they drift.  
  
The pain is keeping him mostly centred and present, enough for him to be able to focus, but _spirits_ , how many times does he need to hear these arguments-  
  
Sokka's hand slides up his thigh and _presses_. Zuko bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from whimpering at the way it forces his leg down, heel pressing into the bruising on his thigh, and doesn't dare look up to see how smug Sokka will inevitably be.  
  
On the leftmost side of his paper, in his most perfect calligraphy, he writes _I hate you_.  
  
Sitting back and looking up at the councillors again, trying to tune back into what they're saying, he can see Sokka shift out of the columns of his notes to write something along the edge.  
  
_I know_.  
  
Zuko resists the urge to write _I want a divorce_ , because Sokka might try to drag out the torture even _more_ after this, and tries to focus on the meeting. It works. Mostly.  
  
Maybe it's just because Zuko is taking a more active role than usual this week, in a desperate attempt to distract himself from both the pain and Sokka's teasing, but they actually seem to make progress.  
  
Zuko stands to thank everyone for attending, trying not to obviously wince at stretching out the aching muscle - from the looks he's getting, it doesn't work - and waves out his guards as they linger at the door.  
  
"I have a few things to discuss with the Ambassador. I can make my own way back to my rooms."  
  
Spirits, he can _feel_ the way Sokka is watching him.  
  
But, look - he's saying _Ambassador_ , not _husband_. And _my rooms_ , not _ours_.  
  
He's discussing _official business_.  
  
None of that stops the guards from eyeballing them both as they bow and back out of the door.  
  
This is what they get for crowning someone as young as him as Firelord and, later, not allowing him more than an occasional day off to spend with his new husband. Yes, he and Sokka _have_ fucked in every conceivable corner of the palace, and it's quite frankly the only thing that's making this bearable.  
  
"So," Sokka drawls, having sprawled back across the cushions once the councillors had left. "What did you want to discuss, _my Lord_?"  
  
Spirits, he _knows_ what that tone of voice does to Zuko - but he can't even act on it, because as much as he wants to order Sokka around right now, what he _needs_ is very different.  
  
"You know what," he says, barely keeping his voice level.  
  
Sokka raises a brow at him and Zuko bites his lip, knowing he'll have to use his damn words. Or-  
  
He moves to stand across the low table from Sokka rather than at the head of it and sinks back to his knees, flushing at the way Sokka's eyes follow him. Time to see how well he can get him going. Zuko leans forward to brace his elbows on the table, kneeling up with legs spread.  
  
"Please," he murmurs, and hears Sokka's sharp intake of breath. From his limited angle of vision he can see him stand suddenly, looking down on him, and he arches his back to show off and watches with satisfaction as his husband has to adjust himself through the thin fabric of his tunic.  
  
Sokka's always loved domming him when he's in full regalia, and it's good to know he can get him this worked up with barely a look.  
  
"Pull your robes up," Sokka tells him, voice low. "Up around your waist."  
  
Zuko fumbles his way through the instructions, already so turned on he can barely think straight, and Sokka strides around the table to stand behind him.  
  
"Tuck it into your sash." Sokka brushes his fingertips along the back of Zuko's neck, making him shiver. "Now lean forward. Hold the other side of the table."  
  
The new position forces Zuko to stretch, lifting higher onto his knees and arching forward to be able to reach. If anyone came in- Sokka must be reading his mind, because he reaches down and adjusts him until his head is resting on the table, facing the door.  
  
If someone comes in, he's not going to have time to kneel up straight or pull his robes down. They'll all see exactly what's happening.  
  
That thought shouldn't make him even harder, but Zuko's never been one for _should_ s.  
  
"Good boy," Sokka murmurs. "Now ask for it."  
  
"Sokka-" His voice cracks, and he presses his cheek into the warm wood and shifts his weight in the way that he _knows_ makes his ass look good. He's going to have to say it, isn't he? "Please spank me," he whispers, spreading his thighs wider, and prays that Sokka isn't going to make him _beg_. He doesn't think he could stand it.  
  
Sokka must be able to tell, because there's a hand on the small of his back holding him down, arching his ass up higher, and a deft hand unwinding his loincloth.  
  
"Such a good boy for me, all spread out like that-"  
  
Sokka leans over and touches Zuko's lips until he parts them, then holds up the fabric of his loincloth. Zuko obediently opens his mouth wider, letting Sokka stuff him as full as possible with the soft linen. He'll probably need the help staying quiet.  
  
"That's it." Sokka pinches his ass, making Zuko rock forward on his knees a little. "Now hold the other side of the table, and _don't move_."  
  
He doesn't have time to brace himself before the first slap, the crack of Sokka's hand echoing deafeningly loud in the empty hall. If his guards are waiting outside-  
  
Zuko screws his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the wood of the table, and lets the gag muffle his desperate noises as Sokka picks up his pace. It's so, _so_ easy to slip into that headspace, nothing but Sokka's hands on him and the ache in his shoulders as he braces against the blows and the way he finally, _finally_ feels complete.  
  
He almost doesn't realise Sokka's stopped with the spanking until there's a spit-slick finger rubbing at his entrance, a hand heavy at the small of his back.  
  
"You gone somewhere, baby?" Sokka's voice is low and soft and _painfully_ fond.  
  
"Mhm," Zuko manages, trying to drag himself back from that strange floaty headspace and failing miserably.  
  
"That's okay." Sokka's lips brush the base of his spine and a hand is tugging the fabric of the makeshift gag out of his mouth. "Zuko, sweetheart, you've been so _good_ for me. I'm gonna get you stretched out now, okay? You'll have to keep it together a bit to get back to our rooms, but then you're going to get fucked senseless any way you want it, just like I promised you. Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you," Zuko mumbles, pressing his face against the table and arching into Sokka's hands as a finger slips into him.  
  
"Spirits, you're so _perfect_ ," Sokka breathes, working another up into him. "Already so relaxed for me, gonna take no time at all." His palm runs up Zuko's spine, warm and heavy. "You can go all spacy if you want, baby, so long as you can walk. I've got you."  
  
Zuko makes a vague little noise into the tabletop that's mostly meant to represent the fact that he doesn't _want_ to go spacy because he'd rather be able to feel Sokka's hands, but he closes his eyes again anyway and relaxes into the touch. It doesn't feel like long before he's whining with loss at the emptiness, Sokka's low laugh behind him.  
  
"You're alright, sweetheart," he soothes. "Can you stand up for me? No, you gotta let go first-"  
  
Hands pry his fingers free from the edge of the table, and Zuko blinks his eyes open to see Sokka lacing their fingers together, rubbing with his thumbs at the creases dug into soft skin by his white-knuckled grip on the corners.  
  
""m okay," he murmurs, tightening his grip on Sokka's hands.  
  
"Yeah, baby, you are." Sokka shifts them around until he's sat cross-legged with Zuko in his lap, reaching up to pull all the ties and ornamentation free from his hair to let his topknot down around his shoulders. "I'd fuck you over that table right here and now, but I think you deserve a bed today. You've been _so_ good."  
  
Zuko blinks down at where Sokka's arms are looped around his waist, holding his crown. "You just had that hand up my ass," he says, and Sokka muffles a laugh into the top of his head.  
  
"Yeah, I guess I did. You can clean it, right?"  
  
"Desecration of my national heirlooms," Zuko mumbles, twisting in his lap to bury his face into the crook of Sokka's neck.  
  
"Do you care?"  
  
"Mm. No."  
  
Sokka nuzzles his hair. "Do you feel ready to get up and walk back?"  
  
"There's gonna be guards."  
  
"Mhm."  
  
"They might have been _right there_."  
  
Sokka manoeuvres both himself and Zuko to their feet, bundling up the spit-sodden linen and shoving it into his pocket and giving Zuko his crown back. Zuko leans heavily into him as they head for the door, grateful for the arm around his waist keeping him upright. He can't wait to get back to their rooms so he can just let Sokka throw him around and fuck him - his muscles can't stand to do much else.  
  
"If they were," Sokka says, "You're never going to hear about it. You think any of them would say anything to you? Just tell yourself they were all far enough away that they didn't hear anything."  
  
They reach the exit, Zuko suddenly very aware of how no loincloth makes his arousal _very_ obvious, and Sokka reaches past him to push open the heavy door.  
  
"Or," Sokka says, like it just occurred to him. "You can tell yourself that they heard _everything_. Up to you, baby."  
  
He doesn't wait for Zuko's frantic spluttering to die down before towing him out into the corridor.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [reminder [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048070) by [Rionaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa)




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